


Boots the Maiden Wore

by katajainen



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Boots - Freeform, F/F, First Dates, Fluff, One Shot, Wordcount: 100-1.000, inclement weather, worrying abouut one's appearance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-25
Updated: 2016-03-25
Packaged: 2018-05-29 00:12:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6351130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katajainen/pseuds/katajainen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sansa's going to her first date with Margaery, and she worries over her appearance, more specifically, her choice of footwear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boots the Maiden Wore

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Saraste](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saraste/gifts).



> I don't even know. I'm pretty sure there was an idea to start with.
> 
> For [Saraste](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Saraste) to celebrate the end of slush season, I guess.

Sansa stared at the red pedestrian light and shifted from one foot to the other, slightly out of breath. She was already late. The heavy traffic whooshed past her, the spinning tires churning the late Spring snowfall into wet gray slush.

She crossed the street in small rapid steps, mincing between the fat, dirty puddles of not-quite-snow-but-not-quite-water, her feet already cold, an insistent trickle of wetness leaking through the seam of her left boot to soak her toes. Of course, wellingtons would have been the sensible thing to wear in this weather, but she hardly could have gone on a date with _Margaery Tyrell_ wearing those, now could she. Not a first date. Not with the kind of impression she wanted to give. So she sidestepped and wove her perilous way over the waterlogged street in a vain attempt to keep her footwear looking soft and pretty a minute longer.

A good inch of wet snow on cold cobblestones made for treacherous footing as Sansa hurried across the square. As she reached the steps leading up to the Sept, the later afternoon sun peeked through a gap in the clouds overhead, making the blanket of white glitter and gleam around her. About halfway up, she was startled by the sound of her own name.

Margaery stood upon the topmost step, the facade of the Sept rising red-bricked and imposing behind her, sunlight kissing her from head to toe. Her coat shone a vibrant leafy green, hugging her figure at the top, flaring over her full skirt at the hem, the color a perfect compliment to the brown curls escaping from beneath the hood. But it was the face framed by the hood and the curls that slowed Sansa’s steps to a halt. Margaery was smiling at Sansa, radiant as any depiction of the Maiden, even though surely no sacred image ever smiled with such knowing and cheek.

As Sansa reached her, she was breathless, and not only from the ascent. Margaery clasped her hand and pulled her closer. “I’m sorry you had to wait.” Sansa managed to say, her gaze dropping to their joined hands, then down to her feet, stopping abruptly on Margaery’s boots. _Oh._ They were slim, black, with a bit of heel, but still, without a doubt – wellingtons. “Nice boots,” she said, the first thing that came to mind, “very... practical.”

Margaery laughed, a soft tinkle. “Thanks. But yours are much prettier.”

Sansa risked a look up, her cheeks heating, and found Margaery’s smile contagious. “Might be, but only good for freezing your toes in this weather.” she replied with a shrug. And then Margaery was kissing her, soft and sweet and full of promise. She was kissing Sansa on top of the stairs in front of the Sept, high above the snow-covered square blazing blindingly bright like the sunlit sea in Summertime, and Sansa found her anxiety burned clean away, her heart filled with fierce joy instead.

“You’re too cute when you smile like that.” Margaery said, her lips a breath away from Sansa’s.

“It’s only because of you, I promise.” Sansa smirked. “Shall we? You did promise me tea and something sweet.”

“I don’t think I need more than the tea anymore.” said Margaery, her hand a warm solid weight on the small of Sansa’s back as they descended through the low doorway into the cellars under the Sept. It was warm and blessedly dry under the vaulted roof of the cafe, and the tea was served hot and fragrant, but nothing could beat the heat in Margaery’s eyes as she looked at Sansa across the table. She felt warm to the tips of her toes, and Stranger take her silly boots.

 

**Author's Note:**

> For the curious:
> 
> \- The setting is based on an actual place: the cathedral of Turku, Finland (where I happen to live) and the cathedral square. And there actually is a cafe in the basement (pics [here](https://www.facebook.com/domkahvila)). Since I'm doing a modern AU, I might as well have fun with it.
> 
> \- Margaery's boots are something like [these](http://www.footway.fi/viking-grace-hi-8586.html).


End file.
